"You're a good child," he said. "I'll do as much for you some day,
perhaps."

"I would have come before if I had seen you," remarked Toinette,
timidly. "But I didn't see you a bit."

"No, because I had my cap on," cried the elf. He placed it on his head
as he spoke, and hey, presto! nobody was there, only a voice which
laughed and said: "Well--don't stare so. Lay your finger on me now."

"Oh," said Toinette, with a gasp. "How wonderful. What fun it must be
to do that. The children wouldn't see me. I should steal in and
surprise them; they would go on talking, and never guess that I was
there. I should so like it. Do elves ever lend their caps to anybody? I
wish you'd lend me yours. It must be so nice to be invisible."

"Ho," cried the elf, appearing suddenly again. "Lend my cap, indeed!
Why it wouldn't stay on the very tip of your ear, it's so small. As for
nice, that depends. Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't. No, the
only way for mortal people to be invisible is to gather the fern-seed
and put it in their shoes."

"Gather it? Where? I never saw any seed to the ferns," said Toinette,
staring about her.

"Of course not--we elves take care of that," replied the little man.
"Nobody finds the fern-seed but ourselves. I'll tell you what, though.
You were such a nice child to take out the thorn so cleverly, that I'll
give you a little of the seed. Then you can try the fun of being